


6.05 "Honored Daughter"

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Series: Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 6 [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Virtual Season/Series, Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-17
Updated: 2006-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Phlox's "honored daughter" has an unusual request after nursing him back to health. Meanwhile, a rescue mission has repercussions for the crew of Enterprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Beta: Kylie Lee  


* * *

The sun was starting to set as two people stepped away from the cluster of buildings constructed around a small greenish-yellow park. The structures, which resembled a pile of children's multicolored building blocks, were piled up in columns, each block not quite aligning with the one below. Many had balconies, and in the warm Denobulan early autumn, chattering family groups were seated on the roofless projections, enjoying the weather and the view.

"How about a walk around the pond, Phlox-ix?" Berina suggested, tacking the Denobulan term of respect and endearment onto his name. She took the arm of the third husband of her father's second wife and looked up at him for an answer.

Phlox grunted agreeably and nodded. Looking down at her diminutive form--she came just to his chin--he joked, "You'd better not let Haim hear you say that. He'll be jealous."

"No disrespect intended to my biological father, but I do consider you my honored father," Berina said. Her golden eyes twinkled with affection.

"I am most honored that you consider me so," the physician responded cheerfully as he patted the hand that had latched onto his arm.

Berina had been his primary caretaker since he had returned to Denobula to recuperate from the deaths of his first wife, Alora, and another of her husbands, Card, in the Romulan attack at Alpha Centauri many months ago. Phlox had found their deaths overwhelming, particularly just after having been reunited with them after a long time apart, and particularly in conjunction with the deaths on board ship that resulted from the Romulan attack on _Enterprise._ In true Denobulan fashion, he had descended into a catatonic state, one that resembled their sleeps--so deep that they were almost hibernations. As a doctor, he knew better than anyone that the imperatives of nature could not be denied. Coming home to Denobula had been just what he had needed, for all that he had come to call _Enterprise_ home, and the crew his friends.

He knew Berina, whose curiosity about humans was insatiable, would be interested in any tidbit he could share with her. "Did you know some humans are referred to by a similar term?"

"But they are mono...monoton..." Her brow ridges furrowed as she tried to recall the proper word.

"Monogamous," Phlox supplied. "Yes, for the most part they commit to a single person. The 'honored father' in this instance is called a godfather, and there are godmothers as well."

"Godfather," she repeated thoughtfully as they strolled along the path next to the pond. "It refers to a type of deity?"

Phlox chuckled. "Oh, no! A godfather or godmother is an honor bestowed upon a man or woman by friends or relatives. It signifies an agreement that the godfather or godmother will raise a child as a member of their family if anything were to happen to the child's parents. They agree to provide shelter and comfort, and to see that the child is raised in the faith of the parents. If I recall correctly, you've done some research regarding Earth religions?"

Berina nodded her head, sending her chocolate-colored curls bouncing. "It's very interesting--so much history and diversity for one planet! I'd love to visit Earth sometime. Will you take me? Show me around?"

Phlox patted her hand again and smiled at her enthusiasm. "When the time is right," he said.

He'd always been fond of Berina, although she seemed so young. During his time on _Enterprise,_ the affection had grown. She had enjoyed receiving his correspondence and had replied promptly and intelligently. Always eager to find out all she could about humans, she'd pose questions about the ship, the crew members, and his work. And she was always informative about current events on Denobula. Her letters had indicated that she had been quite active politically, but since he'd returned to Denobula, it seemed her attention had turned to her studies. When he'd asked her about that interest, she dismissed it as old news.

Berina pulled Phlox to a stop just before they were to cross over the quaint bridge that spanned the pond. "Can we go soon? I can be packed in no time!"

With another chuckle at her childlike enthusiasm, Phlox shook his head. "You know I'm thinking of starting a practice on Denobula. Besides, your mother would be outraged. You know how much trouble she's gone through for your Unveiling. She already has a number of handsome young men vying for your attention. Surely you don't want to miss it? All the ceremony, excitement, anticipation! The clothes! The pageantry! I remember the first Unveiling I attended. Your mother was dressed in--"

"But I--"

"Oh, look!" Phlox interrupted her interruption. "There's Doctor Lylex!" He waved energetically to his personal physician.

Lylex called out to him and quickened his pace as he crossed the bridge toward the pair. Reaching them, he bowed politely toward Berina before gripping Phlox's upper arms and smiling broadly at the him. "You're looking much better! I see great improvement."

"Doctor, how wonderful to see you. You remember Berina." Phlox patted Berina's hand, still around his arm. "We're out for our evening stroll. Do join us."

The doctor willingly fell into step beside them. "I see that Berina's nursing has been very effective." Lylex smiled warmly at the young Denobulan woman.

"She's going to be a fine physician or nurse some day," Phlox assured him, taking great pride when he saw Berina blush. She was becomingly modest about her skills. Then again, the blush might be the result of something else. Perhaps she wasn't as immune to the younger doctor's charms as she'd like him to believe. And if Phlox wasn't mistaken, Lylex was looking for a second wife.

Turning his bright grin toward Berina, Lylex asked, "Do you want to follow in Phlox's footsteps?"

"I passed my qualifying exams and am currently waiting assignment for preliminary medical training. In the meantime--"

"In the meantime, she's been taking excellent care of me," Phlox said. "My improvement is all due to Berina's care."

"And what of your physician?" Lylex asked, his abashed tone totally unconvincing as his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Well, I suppose you might have been responsible for some benefit." Phlox laughed heartily. "Good heavens! Is that the time? Let's all dine together and talk about wonderful things."

Phlox had a few moments' respite as the younger physician engaged Berina in conversation. It was true--he was better. But there were times when the ache of his loss would rise up like the mist off a sludge spring, threatening to obscure everything else he was feeling. If it hadn't been for Berina's care, he still might be in a catatonic state, not only unaware but unwilling to take notice of his surroundings.

He felt Berina's small hand give his arm a slight squeeze and he glanced down at her face. He saw the concern there, and he gave her a reassuring smile. She was the best medicine he could have prescribed for himself. If only to spare her worry, he'd been making an effort to appear normal. Much to his surprise, he'd found that the more he tried, the better he actually felt. It was an intriguing phenomenon. Perhaps one day he might be able to write a paper about this unusual form of self-therapy--healing oneself through a desire not to cause others undue worry.

* * *

Lieutenant Victoria Collins looked up from the data PADD to Ensign Hoshi Sato. "I want to see all transmissions you translate. And next time, I don't care if it's as innocuous as a peanut butter cookie recipe."

Sato, who had been walking with Doctor Weber to the mess hall when they were approached by _Enterprise_ 's security officer, looked chagrined. "Yes, ma'am."

"I know you didn't have to do this for Lieutenant Reed, but I'm not him. I do things my own way. Don't let it happen again." Collins's expression was a clear indication she wasn't going to argue this point. With one last glare at the PADD and then another for Sato, she turned and marched off down the corridor.

"No, ma'am," Sato, her cheeks hot, said to Collins's retreating back. She thought she said it with admirable restraint. She supposed Collins had every right to request this information, but she did not appreciate being dressed down in public. She could see a crew member or two lingering in the corridor, unabashedly eavesdropping, and of course, Doctor Weber stood right next to her. "Shall we go in?" she said with false brightness to Weber.

As Weber allowed Sato to precede him into the mess hall, he asked, "What was that all about?"

Sato sighed as they entered the mess hall. "I was exchanging correspondence with the communications officer of the Jibarian freighter we met last week. It was only a Brazilian soup recipe, but Lieutenant Collins questioned what I was doing. I guess she thought I might have been divulging confidential information." She rolled her eyes in exasperation at the security officer's rigid attitude toward security.

Weber picked up a tray and selected a plate of vegetarian lasagna and a large slice of garlic bread. "You didn't have to pass everything through the previous chief of security?"

Sato added a green salad, a bowl of seafood chowder, and a glass of iced tea to her own tray before answering. "Lieutenant Reed knew I wouldn't give out classified information. He trusted my judgment."

Weber, with Sato trailing in his wake, went to a table away from the other diners. "I can understand how you might find the changes that have taken place since Alpha Centauri disquieting," he said. "Some people adjust to change better than others."

Sato chuckled as she lowered herself into a chair. "Not me. When I first came on board _Enterprise,_ I asked the captain to have my quarters changed to the other side of the ship." She smiled as she recalled the incident. "You see, the stars bothered me. On my training cruise, I had quarters on the starboard side of the ship, and I found I couldn't sleep on the port side. The stars--"

"--were going the wrong way," Weber finished for her with an understanding expression.

"That's right! What else could I do?" Sato shrugged.

Weber leaned forward and said, "You could have asked the captain to fly the ship in reverse for the entire mission."

She laughed. Weber's delightfully deadpan delivery of punchlines always amused her. It was the polar opposite of Phlox, whose eager enthusiasm and enjoyment of a joke was charming in its own way, but so very different. She had been happy that, during their recent visit to Betazed for a trade summit, Weber had finally been able to open up a bit and relax. He'd even asked her to call him by his first name--Ezra--when they weren't on duty.

"Very funny," she told Weber. "But I've changed a lot since then. I'm not so scared, for one thing. There are some things that still take a lot of getting used to, though."

As they began eating, she let her gaze roam around the mess hall, taking in all the people who hadn't been on board a few months ago. She knew that that was one of the things she was getting used to--not that she had a choice in the matter. But it didn't change the fact that things weren't the same as they had been before Alpha Centauri. A lot of her friends had left; a few had been killed. At least T'Pol had come back, although Sato had never had what she considered a close friendship with the Vulcan first officer. They'd come to respect each other and their respective abilities, however, and respect from a Vulcan was not to be taken lightly.

She especially missed Doctor Phlox, although on the bright side, she'd received a letter from him the other day. It was the first time she'd heard from him since he'd left _Enterprise._ She'd been pleased to hear he was doing well. The first chance she got, she'd write back and tell him his animals were being well cared for.

As she took a bite of salad, Sato became aware of Weber looking curiously at her. "Penny for your thoughts," he said gently.

Indicating the other diners with a tilt of her head, she said, "It seems strange to be on _Enterprise_ without people like Doctor Phlox and Lieutenant Reed, and all the others. We became a cohesive unit; we worked together for five years. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to them being gone." Weber arched a sardonic eyebrow and, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment, she added hurriedly, "That's not to say I don't appreciate you being here."

The doctor smiled. "I know that. You make me feel very welcome on this ship, and I appreciate it. I'm glad you feel you can tell me about things that are bothering you, Hoshi."

Sato gave him a small smile in return. "You've made it easy."

"No, I don't," he contradicted her. "I can be quite the curmudgeon. You're one of the few people who have been able to break through my grumpiness. The other was my former assistant. You remind me of her."

Sato tried to keep her expression one of polite interest, although she was suddenly nervous. Did the doctor know that she'd delved into his past out of sheer curiosity? She still was a bit ashamed about that. But when he wouldn't tell her why he'd sought a post on a starship, she'd felt compelled to do some snooping. And now he was telling her that she reminded him of his former assistant, a young woman who, Sato had discovered, had been killed in an accident while working on one of his research experiments. Her instincts told her that he'd been in love with his assistant, although nothing like that had been spelled out in his file; it was simply that he'd fallen apart after her death. His comparison made her uncomfortable. Weber was a nice enough man, and she had been spending a lot of her free time with him, but--

"After I got to know her," he continued, obviously unaware of the direction of her thoughts, "I began to think of her as the daughter I never had."

Sato blinked. Daughter? She wasn't sure whether she should be relieved or not. He had been comparing her to someone he'd regarded as a daughter--not a lover! Weber was still watching her closely, and she was wondering how to gracefully turn the conversation in another direction when she was saved by the sound of a disembodied voice over the intercom.

"Ensign Sato, report to the bridge immediately."

"Sorry, that's my cue to leave." Sato gave Weber an apologetic glance and headed for the door, feeling not so much as if she were racing for the bridge as running away.

* * *

Berina sat in the corner of the study, reading a novel on her personal information device. It had amused her when, in her exploration of all things human, she'd discovered that humans used PADDs while Denobulans used PIDs. The devices looked much the same and served the same purpose, but the underlying technology was very different. It was just one of many differences between the two species that had intrigued her: how the same item could come about in such a very different way.

The study was a dark little room off the main living area. Aside from the padded chair where Berina sat, the room contained a small desk and matching chair, books and research material crammed into floor-to-ceiling shelves, and a variety of photographs and trinkets. This was her favorite place in her mother's apartment. Here she was surrounded by books. She used them to escape from the perennial hubbub and commotion of typical Denobulan life--and, more recently, to escape from the preparations for her Unveiling.

Her mother's voice rang through the living quarters, shattering the peacefulness of her haven. "Berina, it's time!"

With a sigh, Berina put down the novel. Time for what? she wondered. She didn't recall seeing an appointment in her PID, but she couldn't keep up with all the appointments or correspondence that putting together an Unveiling seemed to entail.

She slipped her feet into her boots, grimacing as she did so. On a nearby shelf were a pair of toenail clippers and a clear container that was empty. She reminded herself to clip her nails later, for not only were the long nails making it uncomfortable to wear her boots, but she had promised Phlox food for his new Rataki liz-lug. Turning toward the door, she saw the new red dress hanging there. She had promised her mother she would wear it this evening. Hylea had taken her to the most fashionable store in the city and had taken great care in selecting the garment. It had been altered to fit Berina perfectly. It was indeed a beautiful dress, but it made Berina self-conscious. She wasn't a red dress kind of person.

"Berina!" came her mother's strident voice again. "Where are you?"

Berina looked at the comfortable old green pantsuit she was wearing, sighed, and got to her feet. She loved her mother dearly, but sometimes her forceful personality was more smothering than nurturing. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the study.

Out in the hallway that led to the front door, Hylea greeted her with a broad grin that turned into a frown of the same epic proportions. Gazing in disapproval at Berina, she said, "I told you I wanted you to wear the new dress today! We bought it specifically for your pre-Unveiling dates." She darted into the study and returned a second later, red dress in hand.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was reading and--"

Hylea cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You're always reading. And losing track of time. How many times have I told you that when you are in the Age of Unveiling, you have to be ready all the time!"

Not bothering to tell her mother again that she was sorry--it would only be brushed aside once more--Berina asked, "What's so important?"

Hylea brightened and her hands fluttered excitedly. "You have company!"

"Company? I wasn't expecting anyone." Berina's eyes narrowed with suspicion at the only possible conclusion she could reach. "What have you been up to, Mother?"

"It's just Kekil and Hermat," she said, pushing Berina toward the front door, "so wipe that sour look off your face."

Berina tried to slow her pace, but Hylea continued to propel her onward. "Who are Kekil and Hermat?" Berina asked.

"You remember that nice lady at the market? The one who sells us the nectar fruit? She has twin sons your age. I told her they should come over--"

"You didn't!" Berina cried, outraged. "How could you?"

Berina tried to turn around, but Hylea was not only insistent her daughter reach the front door, but also was twice her size--as well as a former Denobulan martial arts champion. With one final push, Hylea heaved Berina toward the door and then reached around her to pull it open.

"Kekil and Hermat!" Hylea beamed, her facial expression having changed in an instant to one of pure happiness. "So good of you to wait. I'm afraid she's not quite ready, as you can see."

Two identical young Denobulan men, both clad in the latest, most fashionable apparel and each clutching brightly colored bouquets, returned her enthusiastic greeting.

"Look, Berina! They brought you flowers. I told them you like Earth customs." Hylea shoved Berina toward them. Kekil and Hermat gratefully welcomed her into their arms, but their kind gesture only made Berina stiffen. "I'll expect Berina home by the high moons, boys." She thrust the red dress at Berina. "Why don't you change in the foyer lavatory, dear? Have a good time at the party!"

Berina's look of shocked betrayal was ignored by her mother as she shut the door in her daughter's face.

* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer, seated in his command chair on the bridge, looked over his shoulder at the sound of the turbolift door sliding open. He gave Sato a brief nod as she stepped out and hurried over to her console. Returning his attention to the viewscreen, he said, "Full magnification." The view of stars moving by as the ship flew at warp 5 suddenly jumped, and a small object appeared in the center of the screen. From this distance, it was hard to tell what it was, but _Enterprise_ was rapidly closing on its position.

"We've received a distress call," he told Sato as she took over at communications and inserted the transceiver in her ear. "The UT could make out enough to tell it's Kreetassan, but that's about it."

As Sato nodded and replayed the distress call through her earpiece, Archer's tension receded slightly. He was glad Sato, with her linguistic abilities, was now on the bridge. She had once told him that Kreetassan was one of the most difficult languages she'd ever had to learn. There were so many nuances and double meanings and variations based on intonation that the universal translator often couldn't handle it.

In addition, the people themselves were stubborn and set in their ways. Archer and his crew had almost caused a major incident several years ago during first contact with them when they'd unknowingly committed a cultural faux pas. They hadn't known that Kreetassans found it offensive to see other people eat. And try as he might, he couldn't forget another incident involving Porthos and a tree on the Kreetassans' homeworld. Archer didn't like to be reminded of what he'd had to do to atone for that misunderstanding. The crew thought no less of him for donning dreadlocks and tattoos in order to put things to rights, but the memory of their chuckles and snickers still stung.

"We are close enough to detect signs of damage," Commander T'Pol said from her station. "The ship's engine is offline, and they are venting atmosphere."

"Hoshi?" Archer asked, looking over at the communications console where Sato sat with a hand to her ear, holding the small receiver in place.

"The distress call is a repeating automatic signal," she said, her eyes losing their focus as she listened intently. "It's the Kreetassan freighter _Lingba_...One of their nacelles was damaged by a collision with an asteroid...Injuries. Requesting medical assistance." Her eyes lost their distant look and shifted to gaze at the captain. "That's it, sir."

Archer took a deep breath and then rapidly issued orders. "Hoshi, hail the Kreetassans and tell them we can help, and also find out if their docking port is operational. Travis, bring us in next to them. T'Pol, have Doctor Weber standing by, and tell Trip to get repair teams ready."

As his officers erupted in a flurry of activity in response to his orders, Archer leaned back in his chair. He'd done all he could do until they arrived at the freighter's position.

* * *

Phlox looked up with a smile from where he was kneeling, hands covered in mud, to greet Berina as she walked toward him in the park. "Digging for more mole grubs?" Berina asked with a wry grin.

"You know me so well," Phlox responded heartily. "They are an excellent source of--" 

"--nutrients, and they can also expedite the healing of burns," Berina finished for him.

Phlox picked up the towel he had brought with him and wiped the dirt from his hands. "You know almost as much about natural remedies as I do," he said approvingly.

"I had a good teacher."

Phlox thought Berina looked as if there was more she wanted to say, but she didn't. As Phlox wiped the last of the dirt from his fingers, he saw her smile fade. She turned away with a sigh, and without so much as a good-bye, she started back up the hill toward the housing complex. It was so unlike Berina that Phlox hastily got to his feet and hurried to catch up with her, leaving his mole grubs behind. "What's wrong?" he asked as he reached her side and matched his pace to hers. He placed a hand on her shoulder to slow her progress, and he felt a shiver run through her. She'd been perfectly fine the last time he'd seen her. Hylea had mentioned that she'd arranged for Berina to attend a pre-Unveiling function last night, however. "Is this about the party?" he asked.

"It started out all right, but..." Her words were choked off by a sob. Berina covered her face with her hands and started to weep. When she continued to cry despite his pleas to tell him her troubles, Phlox pulled her over to one of the park benches and guided her to sit. She gave a large sniffle and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. "I'm not like the other girls," she said. "There, I said it. It's an awful clichÃ©, but it's true.â€�

Phlox, remembering what it was like to be her age, merely said, "What do you mean?"

She looked at him almost apologetically. "Kekil and Hermat--some boys my age--took me to the party last night. There were a lot of people there. Music. Food. At first I thought I might have a good time. And I have to say that Mother was right about the red dress."

"Go on," Phlox encouraged as she paused to take a big gulp of air.

"The other girls were giggling and flitting from one boy to another. Kekil and Hermat talked to me and, before I knew it, they were trying to kiss me." She sobbed loudly. "Everyone else was happy and laughing, but I didn't feel like that at all. I felt lost. Then Kekil and Hermat starting making fun of me--called me awful names."

"It will get better," Phlox promised, although he could see he needed to have a talk with Kekil and Hermat, whoever they were. They obviously didn't know how special Berina was. He patted her hand. "You are only just starting the Unveiling season. Soon you'll be having a good time like the rest of your friends."

Berina shook her head. "You don't understand. I don't want to be like my friends and have dozens of boyfriends, and I don't want to be Unveiled." She lowered her voice and spat harshly, "It's barbaric!"

Phlox was astonished. Every young Denobulan woman considered the Unveiling as one of the most wonderful and exciting times in their lives, and he told Berina that.

She turned toward him, her earnest eyes searching his face for understanding. "I'm not every Denobulan woman, Phlox-ix," she said. "There are times when I wish I was a human."

Phlox was shocked despite himself. "Berina!"

"It's true!" she cried. "I don't want three husbands, and I don't want my husband to have other wives! I want to feel special; I want to know my husband only wants me. I want my husband to know he's special to me, that I only want him. Is that wrong?" She looked up at Phlox beseechingly, her face streaked with a new set of tears.

At a loss, Phlox said the only thing he could think of. "It's certainly not...Denobulan."

"It doesn't mean it's wrong!" Berina exclaimed. "I've felt this way for a long time, Phlox-ix. I've always felt I was different--that I was meant for something special. Please, Phlox-ix. Take me away from here. Take me to Earth. Let me see what it's like. Perhaps that's the reason your life on _Enterprise_ among humans interested me so much. Maybe that's where my future lies."

"You know I'm going to set up shop here on Denobula," he said, a small part of him amazed by Berina's audacity, not to mention her lack of concern for how her behavior would make him feel. She had clearly been reading too many romantic novels. "I was hoping you'd come with me next week when I look at office space on the other side of the city."

"I can't do this," Berina said, her voice soft and full of despair, and Phlox knew she was referring to the Unveiling. "I beg you, Phlox-ix--take me away from Denobula. I can't bear it here."

* * *

T'Pol gave her report to Archer in his ready room. The injured Kreetassans had been brought aboard and were being treated in sickbay by Doctor Weber. Once the rent on the _Lingba_ 's hull was sealed, repair crews would restore life support and see what could be done about the mangled nacelle. "Commander Tucker estimates it will take at least a week to make the _Lingba_ operational," T'Pol said.

She waited patiently as Archer considered that bit of information. If she were human, she would say he was hearing the proverbial clock ticking. She understood his concern, but although she knew the situation aggravated him, it was against her nature to verbally empathize. Even after associating with humans for so long, the best she could do was silently commiserate. She had long ago stopped trying to anticipate humans, so she wasn't surprised when Archer's next words appeared to be a non sequitur.

"Any word from Reed?" he asked.

"No, sir," she replied.

She resisted the urge to inquire why he'd asked. If she did, it would be only to appease her curiosity, valid thought it might be. She could deduce his motivation for the question, however. They didn't seem to be making any progress in investigating the link between Starfleet Intelligence and the Romulans. Malcolm Reed, the former tactical officer for _Enterprise,_ had resigned his commission to conduct his own, albeit unauthorized, investigation. His background in covert operations meant he was well qualified for such an undertaking. It was understandable that the captain wondered whether Reed was having any success, because _Enterprise_ had found out nothing except that certain aliens whose governments were sympathetic to Earth's situation were being watched.

T'Pol knew that she had been monitored while stationed on Earth as Vulcan ambassador, but the question was by whom, and for what purpose. In addition, the Betazed ambassador to Earth had realized she also was under surveillance. The recent summit on Betazed had provided an opportunity for T'Pol and that ambassador, Nevarra Sel, to compare notes and reach an understanding that, although beneficial to both their worlds, would help Earth as well. So while they were finding out that the machinations of the conspiracy were more far-reaching then they'd realized, they also were not coming any closer to finding out who was responsible.

The chime to the ready room interrupted her contemplation.

"Enter!" Archer called out.

The door slid open to reveal Commander Trip Tucker, data PADD in hand. The engineer stepped into the room with a nod for her and turned to the captain. "It's possible to shore up that nacelle enough for the Kreetassans to crawl home, but it's gonna be a major job," he said. "They probably could do it on their own, but it would take twice as long without our help."

Archer exhaled heavily. "We can't just leave them here on their own while they repair their ship. I also can't see them hitching a ride with us until we can drop them off. They wouldn't want to leave their ship here unguarded." He turned to T'Pol. "Aren't there any other ships in the area that can help them?" he asked.

"Not immediately," T'Pol replied. "Their home planet is sending a relief ship, but it will be two weeks before it can get here."

She could see Archer become more vexed. Another human expression came to mind: pouring oil to smooth troubled waters. "At the least," she offered, "this will further our official mission to show other species that we can work with them and be their allies. Once the Kreetassan ship is repaired and on its way, we can continue with our...other agenda." That other agenda included culling information from a network being operated by the Boomers, but so far, no viable data had come from that source.

Archer grunted, still displeased by the situation, but before he could speak, he was contacted by Weber with an update on the Kreetassans in sickbay. The doctor reported that all the injured but one would recover.

"According to our medical database," Weber's voice came over the comm, "the injury is treatable. There is pressure on the brain that needs to be relieved, but..." There was a long pause, and T'Pol visualized the doctor running a hand through his gray hair, a gesture she'd often seen him make. "I don't have the expertise necessary to treat this injury on this alien species. It's very complicated surgery--more so than it would be if a human were the patient. My ignorance and lack of experience could kill him."

T'Pol watched as Archer weighed this paradox. If the doctor didn't treat the patient, he would die from his injuries. If the doctor tried to help the patient, the result could be the same.

As Archer questioned Weber about the procedure, T'Pol considered the situation. Weber was a more than adequate doctor and performed his medical duties admirably, but this situation only served to point out how much they'd become accustomed to Phlox's exceptional abilities in interspecies medicine when he'd been a member of the crew. It had been gratifying to hear from Sato that Phlox appeared to be recovering from his traumatic loss and was considering resuming a medical practice. Sato had expressed an interest in visiting their former doctor if their course took them close to Denobula, which might be possible since--

She inhaled as she realized _Enterprise_ 's location in this sector of space. The slight sound of her changed respiration must have alerted Archer, for he asked, "T'Pol?"

* * *

Phlox ran down the sidewalk leading to the front door of the apartment building. Taking the steps two at a time, he arrived out of breath at the entrance, threw the door open, and hastened to Hylea's accommodations. As he flung the door open, he was greeted by a startled Hylea, but he brushed aside his third wife's attempt at an affectionate greeting. "Where's Berina?" he asked.

"Berina? She's reading out on the balcony. Why?"

Phlox pushed past Hylea without answering and headed for the balcony doors.

"Phlox! What's happening?" Hylea demanded as she trailed him on to the balcony.

Berina was seated by the railing, a PID in one hand. She set it aside and rose to her feet in alarm at the abrupt entrance of her mother and honored father.

"Berina, how would you like to visit _Enterprise_?" Phlox blurted out.

Berina looked from him to her mother and back again. Despite the urgency of the situation, Phlox was amused that his honored daughter appeared unable to find her voice. Instead, she simply nodded.

"What do you mean--visit _Enterprise_?" Hylea asked. Her hands on her hips, she added forcefully, "This is the time of her Unveiling. She's not going anywhere."

"They need me on _Enterprise,_ " Phlox explained. "They have a Kreetassan on board who is severely injured. There's not enough time for them to go to the Kreetassan homeworld for surgery, so they've asked me to meet them halfway."

"But why do you want to take Berina?" Hylea demanded.

Phlox had thought of a good answer ahead of time. It wouldn't do to suggest that Berina needed a little space, a little time away from Denobula. That mode of reasoning would be incomprehensible to Hylea, with her laserlike focus on Berina's Unveiling. "There likely is no one left on _Enterprise_ who is familiar with my surgical techniques. Berina is accustomed to Denobulan medicine and has just qualified to study nursing. In addition, she's read all my papers, which explain in detail how I work." Having presented all the reasonable arguments for taking Berina with him, Phlox added an emotional appeal. "Time is of the essence, my dear, if the Kreetassan has any hope of survival. I have booked a shuttle that will leave in just under two chronocycles. If Berina is to go, she must come with me immediately. It really is a wonderful opportunity for her to get some practical experience."

Berina, taking advantage of her elders' discussion, edged past them. "I'll go pack!" she said.

"But the Unveiling!" Hylea cried, spinning around to see Berina step into the apartment.

Phlox pulled Hylea toward him and pressed her fingertips against his lips. "My dear. There will be other Unveilings, Hylea," he said. "Do this for Berina, and do so gladly, and she'll always look back at your sacrifice with great love and pride."

Tears began to track down Hylea's face. "But Phlox--she's my baby!"

"I met someone on Earth at one of the hospitals there. She told me that you raise your children to fly, not to roost." He smiled reassuringly. "Let Berina fly, Hylea. You've raised a fine daughter. Let her have her wings and she'll come back to you, and your bond will be even stronger."

"You'll take care of her," Hylea said through her tears. In keeping with her personality, Phlox knew it was more of a demand than a request.

"Like my very own," he promised solemnly.

"I know you will," she said. She wiped away tears and gathered herself. "Now please excuse me while I help her pack. I don't want her forgetting her red dress. After all," she said, her eyes twinkling through the tears, "there are eligible young men on _Enterprise,_ aren't there?"

* * *

Two days of intensive labor restored the _Lingba_ 's hull breach and environmental systems. During that time, all but one of the injured Kreetassans were discharged from sickbay. The Kreetassan captain had been faced with the certainty that his severely injured crewman would die unless he received medical treatment from someone familiar with his species. He had reluctantly agreed to allow _Enterprise_ to take the injured man to a doctor qualified to perform surgery on his species--Doctor Phlox. He and the rest of his crew would remain aboard the _Lingba,_ working on repairs and awaiting the arrival of the ship from their homeworld.

In the meantime, Weber had been tending to his patient as best he could. There wasn't much he could do other than make the man comfortable and keep his life signs stable. He spent any free moments he had scouring the medical database, going over the surgical procedure needed to save the Kreetassan's life. If they didn't rendezvous with the Denobulan shuttle in time, he would have to perform the surgery whether he liked it or not.

Sato, for her part, was also spending many hours in sickbay. The Kreetassan patient had moments of lucidity when her translation skills were vital to communicate with him, especially as he exhibited irritation when the UT didn't translate accurately. She had already noted the man was easy to anger, and more often than not, she was exhausted from trying to keep him calm by the time he'd finally slip back into unconsciousness. After one particularly intense interlude, the Kreetassan had succumbed to enforced slumber, courtesy of a hypospray applied by Weber. At the doctor's insistence, Sato headed for the mess hall for a break and something to eat.

Wrung out from the incident in sickbay and hoping the Kreetassan would sleep more than a half hour before he'd wake and she'd be summoned again, Sato had just sat down with a sandwich and a cup of tea when Collins entered the mess hall. The security chief spotted her and headed purposefully in her direction. Sato groaned. The last thing she needed right now was another lecture on security protocol in relation to communications.

"Ensign," Collins said, sliding into the seat across from her. "I'm assigning a security guard to sickbay."

Sato, thinking Collins was about to caution her again about passing on classified information--or recipes--couldn't keep from responding caustically. "That's not necessary, Lieutenant," she said. "I haven't said anything to our alien patient except 'calm down.' Or do you want me to run what I'm going to say by you first, just to be on the safe side?"

Collins pursed her lips and glared at Sato. "I'm glad to hear you're being careful about what information you share with our 'guest,'" she replied just as coldly, "but it's your safety and the safety of Doctor Weber that I'm concerned about."

"Oh," Sato said softly, her self-righteous indignation deflating as she realized she'd misjudged Collins. "Sorry. Guess I'm just tired of constantly sparring with the Kreetassan. Verbally, that is."

The apology seemed to mollify Collins. "Doctor Weber told me the patient is becoming increasingly agitated. He's asked to have a security guard on duty in sickbay--primarily for your protection."

Weber hadn't mentioned this request to Sato. He probably knew what she would say, and she said it now. "My protection? There's no need--"

"I agree with the doctor," Collins said evenly. "It's better not to take chances."

Sato knew there was no sense arguing with the woman, and it was something of a relief when Ensign Travis Mayweather approached the table with a tray at that moment and sat down.

"Lieutenant Collins," Mayweather said by way of greeting as the tactical officer got to her feet to leave. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were eating. Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Collins said curtly, and left.

"Yeah, I thought that was weird--you two eating together." Mayweather turned toward Sato. "How's it going, Hoshi?"

Sato waited until Collins was out of earshot. "I'm so tired, Travis. I don't know how much longer I can keep running to sickbay at a moment's notice to translate for an ungrateful and possibly violent patient."

"Cheer up," the helmsman told her as he cut into a slice of Salisbury steak. "We should be meeting Phlox's shuttle in a little over a day."

Sato managed a faint smile as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. The shouting match in sickbay, along with the encounter with Collins, had given her a headache. "That's the only thing keeping me going right now. It will be good to see Phlox again. No slur on Doctor Weber's abilities, but this is something he's never encountered before. I think some of his frustration is rubbing off on me."

As Mayweather ate, Sato's thoughts turned to their current doctor. Other than the single time Weber had brought up his former medical assistant--when he'd said she was like a daughter to him--he hadn't spoken of her. She wondered if he'd picked up on how uncomfortable mentioning that unfortunate woman had made her--not that they'd had time to talk about much since they'd come to the aid of the damaged ship. Maybe it was just as well, she mused. Once the Kreetassan was out of danger, maybe Weber will have forgotten about the whole thing.

* * *

Berina clutched the armrest of her seat as the small shuttle rocked back and forth. "Please tell me the pilot knows what he's doing," Berina pleaded through clenched teeth. Phlox thought she looked ill, but she hadn't complained.

In the front of the small craft, the Denobulan pilot, seemingly oblivious to the jarring ride, was singing loudly and out of tune to whatever music was playing over his headset. Phlox had given up trying to go over his notes for the upcoming surgery even before the ride had turned bumpy. Now it was all he could do to keep from being thrown from his seat.

Trying his best to remain calm, he smiled at Berina. He told himself they were lucky to have found a charter service with a two-passenger shuttle available. The shuttle dipped again and then climbed, causing Phlox to check his seat belt.

"1-2-3 Shuttle Service to the Stars has an excellent safety record," he told her as he tightened the restraining mechanism.

"Let me guess," she said. She stopped to swallow before continuing. "It was the first name in the global directory?"

"Well, now that you mention it--yes." Phlox chuckled weakly. "Weren't we lucky they were able to accommodate us on such short notice? Saved a lot of time." The craft dipped again and Berina shut her eyes tightly. "Their advertisement clearly says, 'Safe Flying for More than Twenty-five Years."

Berina pointed to a poster decorating to the interior of the shuttle. "Did you read the smaller print, which states they've been in business for more than one hundred years? That translates to safe flying only a quarter of the time."

Phlox looked stunned. "Oh, my!"

"It's a good thing I love you and want to see _Enterprise_ so badly, or you'd be short one nurse," she gritted out, holding a hand to her stomach.

"Berina, I'm sure this seems worse than it is."

Again the shuttle bucked. Berina's pallor increased, and Phlox hastily handed her the regurgitation sack.

* * *

"His vital signs are dropping!" Weber said, his gaze riveted on the screen behind the biobed.

"Are you sure he's dying?" Sato asked incredulously over the inarticulate sounds of the agitated Kreetassan, who was struggling to sit up as she and Weber held him down. "No, stay back," she ordered the security guard as he moved in to help. She intended to thank Collins later for his presence. "There's no room. He's still restrained." She shifted to the patient's language in an effort to soothe the man, but to no avail.

"He's delusional," Weber yelled over the shouting Kreetassan. "From what you've told me he's been saying, he's not making any sense. And the injury to his brain has stimulated the production of adrenaline. That explains why he's got so much strength. It's a good thing your Doctor Phlox is almost here. I don't know how much longer this man's body can take the strain."

Sato didn't know how much longer she could stand the strain, either. It seemed impossible that a person who was supposedly at death's door could put up such a struggle. She dodged a flailing arm as it jerked free of the restraint, and she reconsidered her instructions to the security guard. "Can you sedate him again?" she asked Weber.

"It's not a good idea, but I'm going to have to," Weber responded. He held the Kreetassan's free arm down with one hand as he reached, without looking, to the tray of medical instruments on the bedside table. He found a hypospray by touch, but had to glance at it to set the dosage. The momentary lapse of attention was enough for the Kreetassan to lurch out from under his hand. He broke his upper body free from the restraints--and Sato's grasp--and tumbled off the bed, his legs slithering out from under the restraints at his legs.

"No!" Sato cried, backing out of the way and speaking in Kreetassan as the man lumbered to his feet. "Please! You must get back on the bed! You'll hurt yourself!"

With a deep growl, the man staggered toward Sato. She was between the security guard and the deranged patient, and she took up a defensive posture. She was dimly aware that the guard had drawn his sidearm. But Weber grabbed the Kreetassan by the arm, redirecting the attack toward himself. The two men slammed against the bedside table, knocking themselves and the tray of instruments to the floor. Amidst the clatter of metallic objects and the thuds of falling bodies, Sato heard a sharp cry from Weber.

The guard finally managed to get a clear shot. A flash of phased energy struck the Kreetassan in the back, and he slumped on the deck next to Weber.

"Doctor!" Sato cried, rushing to his side. "Are you all right?"

Weber moaned, then sat up and checked his now quiescent patient. "Couldn't you do something besides shoot him?" he asked the guard angrily. "I hope this little ruckus didn't kill him. Help me get him on the biobed."

Sato and the security guard lifted the unconscious man onto the bed as Weber got to his feet. The doctor immediately began securing the patient to the biobed with the restraining straps. Before he could finish, however, the deck tilted beneath their feet. Sato was thrown to her knees, cringing as a horrible grinding sound filled sickbay. Weber managed to stay upright as he grasped the restraining straps tightly, his upper body hunched over the man on the bed to keep him from falling off.

"What was that?" Weber asked as soon as the deck stilled, his hands already resuming the task of refastening the straps.

Sato, grabbing the edge of the biobed to pull herself to her feet, knew what had happened. She'd felt it on several occasions during her tenure on _Enterprise,_ and the captain had once likened the accompanying noise to a cry of pain from the ship. _Enterprise_ had hit something.

* * *

Phlox released his protective hold on Berina where they were seated in the passenger compartment as the shuttle came to a halt. Her wide eyes and pale complexion alarmed him. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Berina swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yes. I didn't realize docking was so...rough."

"It's not, normally," he said, a little shaken himself from the jostling they'd been through. "Something must have gone wrong. You stay here. I'm going to check the pilot to make sure he hasn't been injured."

Berina got to her feet. "I'm perfectly fine. And if the pilot is hurt, you may need my help."

Phlox felt of rush of pride at his honored daughter's fortitude. She was constantly exhibiting her dedication to the service of others. "You will be a credit to your profession," he told her as they hurried up the aisle toward the front of the shuttle, where the pilot was slumped over his console.

* * *

Tucker stared in disgust at the interior side of the docking port, thankful that at least the hull hadn't been breached. That didn't mean the huge crease in the outer bulkhead was going to be any less of a pain in the ass to fix. How could anyone misalign docking seals? There were all manner of safeties to prevent such an occurrence, not to mention a magnetic system to help guide the seals toward each other.

He reported his findings to the captain from a nearby comm panel as several crewmen began working on the docking port door. The crewmen had to pry the slab of metal loose from the warped frame. After several unsuccessful attempts, it opened a half meter with a shriek of protesting metal. Two of the crew grasped the edges and heaved, and the door suddenly unfroze, almost throwing them from their feet. As they staggered to regain their balance, two people hurriedly stepped through the opening.

"Phlox!" Tucker called out in greeting. "What the hell happened?"

The doctor, in a state of controlled excitement Tucker recalled seeing during emergencies in the past, paused to beam at his former crewmate. "I'm sure the pilot can tell you. He didn't sustain any injuries." Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Phlox added, "But I understand it's imperative that I see a patient?"

The smile left Tucker's face as he nodded in agreement. "We can catch up later," he said, falling into step next to Phlox as the doctor started off down the corridor. Tucker cast a glance over his shoulder at the person following them.

Not breaking stride, Phlox said, "That is Berina, daughter of my third wife, Hylea, by her second husband, Haim. You two can become better acquainted later."

Tucker, glancing again at the alert, inquisitive expression on the beautiful young Denobulan's face, blanched. The daughter of one of his wives, Phlox had said. Remembering his experience with Phlox's very forward second wife, Feezal, Tucker thought it was entirely possible that he'd be busy later and not have time to get better acquainted. Denobulan men may not mind if their wives messed around, but Denobulan fathers, even ones once removed, no doubt were more protective of their daughters.

At an intersection in the corridor, Tucker took his leave of the pair and headed to Engineering. The repair crew could take care of the docking port, but he needed to run a thorough check on ancillary systems that might have been damaged in the collision with Phlox's shuttle.

* * *

After hasty introductions in sickbay, Phlox directed Berina toward the locker where the surgical tunics were stored. They quickly donned the garments, as did Doctor Weber and a med tech Phlox didn't recognize. He took stock of the other doctor as they readied for surgery. Weber was rather old--for a human serving in Starfleet on a starship, that is. He'd have to be competent to receive this posting, but he also was apparently mature enough to realize when a situation was beyond his ability and had no qualms about asking for help. That was a sign of a good doctor--putting the patient's welfare ahead of his own ego. Phlox thought it would be easy to work with him.

He almost chuckled as he saw Berina watching with interest as Weber and the med tech suited up. She was enthralled being in the presence of humans. She was doing an admirable job of restraining her curiosity, no doubt because of the seriousness of the operation they were about to perform. He'd have to commend her on that later.

Weber had already prepped the patient. After a quick consultation, the human doctor agreed to observe as Phlox performed the delicate surgery and Berina assisted. Once more, Phlox felt a rush of pride for his honored daughter. He was more than glad she'd decided to accompany him. No doubt Weber would have been able to assist him, but Berina, having been trained on Denobula, would need no explanation of his surgical instructions.

"Adrenaline levels are exceedingly high," Phlox noted as he viewed the readings above the surgical bed. He would have thought that the sedative that Weber had been forced to administer to calm the patient would have mitigated the adrenaline levels, but that didn't seem to be the case. "But that's to be expected with a Kreetassan."

He had just gestured for Berina to move the tray of instruments closer when the intercom blared. "Medical assistance is needed in Engineering. Sickbay, please respond."

Weber caught Phlox's eye. "I'll take care of it," the human said. "I can watch a recording of your procedure later."

As Weber strode to the comm panel to respond, Phlox winked at Berina and said, "Lucky we're here, hmmm?" Then he put all other thoughts out of his mind but the procedure he was about to perform.

* * *

Weber arrived in Engineering to find a thin pall of smoke hanging under the overhead bulkhead and crew members scurrying about as they worked at various tasks. He'd had no idea that a collision with a smaller vessel trying to dock with _Enterprise_ would cause such damage in Engineering.

Looking around, Weber didn't see anyone in need of his services, so he grabbed a passing crew member by the arm and asked. He was told that the chief engineer had been hurt but was still at work. He gripped his med kit tighter and made for the access area the crewman had indicated. Tendrils of smoke were wafting out the opening. Bending almost double to enter, he saw Tucker as soon as he stepped in. The engineer, his hair in disarray and his face and uniform dirty, was seated on the cramped deck, plucking at something on an exposed panel in front of him.

"What seems to be the problem?" Weber asked, hunching down next to the disheveled officer.

"Aw, Doc! I can't believe they called you down here. It's not that bad, " Tucker said, then winced as he tried to pull a circuit board free.

Weber's hand shot out and grabbed Tucker's wrist, turning his hand toward him. Blisters were forming on the engineer's fingertips. "Bet that smarts," Weber said.

"Yeah," Tucker admitted, slumping back to lean against the bulkhead.

As Weber started to work on the burned fingers, he coaxed Tucker to tell him what had happened; keeping a patient talking was a way to keep his mind off the pain. Weber listened with only half an ear as Tucker told him the collision had sent a surge through part of the EPS grid, causing fluctuations in some of the plasma regulators. Another surge had gone through this particular board when Tucker had been working on it.

"I don't understand it. It shouldn't have affected the regulators at all," Tucker said, watching as Weber sprayed his fingers with something that immediately brought a sigh of relief to his lips. "Thanks, Doc."

An ominous sizzle came from the exposed panel.

"What the--?" Tucker said, staring in disbelief at the panel. "There shouldn't be any power going through there. We shut it down after I got burned." He gave the doctor a push toward the opening as the sizzling became louder. "We gotta get out! An overload's buildin' up. It's gonna explode!"

Weber, backing toward the opening, saw Tucker try to push himself up from the deck, only to fall back at the pain in his hands. His only thought being to protect a patient, Weber flung himself forward over Tucker.

* * *

The intercom in sickbay crackled with a panicked voice. "Medical emergency in Engineering!"

Phlox looked at Berina over the patient on the bed. "Doctor Weber should have arrived in Engineering by now," he said. "Maybe he needs help?"

"I'll go, Doctor," said the med tech who, until now, had been watching the surgical procedure silently.

Phlox nodded in agreement. The med tech's presence was superfluous because he had Berina to assist him. And he'd much rather have Berina here than off in a potentially dangerous situation elsewhere. It could interfere with his concentration--not to mention that he'd promised Hylea he'd look out for her.

* * *

"What's going on down there?" Archer demanded, leaning forward tensely in his command chair on the bridge. Not only had the collision with the Denobulan shuttle left a dent in _Enterprise_ 's hull, but it apparently had affected some Engineering systems as well. He'd heard the first call for medical help but hadn't been overly alarmed. Then the second call had come through, and the voice of the crewman had almost been hysterical.

At the science station, T'Pol lifted her eyes from her perusal of interior scans. "There has been an explosion in Engineering," she said.

Archer punched the button on the comm panel on the arm rest of his chair. "Trip? What's happening?" He waited a few beats, and when there was no answer, said, "Engineering! Report!"

A few more moments passed before the voice of Lieutenant Hess, Tucker's second in command, came back ragged with emotion. "There was an explosion in the plasma regulator controls, sir. There's been a fatality."

Archer's mouth suddenly went dry. "Who is it?"

"It's the doctor, sir. Doctor Weber."

At communications, Sato gasped. Archer cut the connection and rose to his feet. "T'Pol, you have the bridge. I'll be in Engineering," he said as he strode for the turbolift. He waited until the door closed behind him before allowing his shoulders to slump. He'd thought when Hess had answered his page that it had been Tucker who had died, and his relief at finding out otherwise had been almost physical in its intensity. Now in the privacy of the turbolift, he chastised himself because it didn't matter who had died--only that someone had--even if he was glad it hadn't been Tucker. He hardly knew Doctor Weber, but he seemed to be a likable person. He'd had no reason to complain about how Weber was running sickbay in the short time he'd been on board. Sato, for one, spoke highly of him. Of all the senior staff, she had been spending the most time with the new doctor, which probably explained her reaction on the bridge.

Archer forced himself to focus as the turbolift slowed and its door opened on E deck. He needed to find out how Weber had died. It was his duty--but it might also assuage his guilt at it being the doctor who was the victim, and not a particular member of the crew who was a close friend.

He could smell burned circuitry and the acrid stench of an explosion as he walked rapidly down the corridor to Engineering. Stepping through the open hatch, he found many of the staff huddled around something near an open access panel. The group parted as he approached, allowing him to see Tucker kneeling on the deck next to Weber's body. If Tucker was aware of the med tech next to him bandaging his shoulder, he wasn't giving any indication of it.

"Trip?" Archer asked.

Tucker tore his anguished gaze away from the body in front of him. "Cap'n, he--" Tucker's voice cracked. He gulped and started over. "I told him to get out, but he must have seen I was havin' trouble. He...he threw himself over me. He saved my life."

A new wave of guilt washed over Archer. He'd been ashamed when he'd been glad it had been Weber and not Tucker who had been killed, and now to find that his friend was alive because of the self-sacrifice of the doctor!

He cleared his throat, knowing he had to issue orders. Addressing the med tech, he said, "Get the commander to sickbay." When Tucker didn't protest, he knew he'd given the correct order; the man was probably in shock. Thank God Phlox was on board. Looking around, he spotted Hess. "Lieutenant, I want a full report on what happened and how long it's going to take to fix." He let his gaze slide to Weber's unmoving body, then turned on his heel and left.

* * *

Behind the curtain separating the surgery area from the rest of sickbay, Phlox was aware of the med tech returning with an injured crewman. Much as he would have liked to have attended the injured person, he couldn't just walk off in the middle of an operation.

"It's the human who met us at the docking port," Berina said. "He's been hurt!"

Phlox glanced up from his work to find her gazing in concern at what was happening on the other side of the curtain. "Berina!" he said sharply. "You must concentrate on the task at hand." She quickly jerked her attention back. At her crestfallen expression, he felt compelled to add, "Commander Tucker is always getting into scrapes, but he always survives them."

Without being prompted, she handed him the autosuturer so he could close the incision. Good, he thought. Although she had been distracted, she was once again paying attention. She was going to make a fine nurse--or a doctor, if she desired to follow that course of study.

Checking the patient's vital signs, he was pleased to see the pressure on the Kreetassan's brain had been relieved, and his adrenaline levels were dropping back to normal. It wasn't until he was pulling off his surgical gloves that Phlox realized Berina's attention was still divided. Her eyes full of concern, she asked, "Why hasn't Doctor Weber come back?"

Her question was answered a moment later when the sickbay doors opened. Two somber crew members bearing a body on a stretcher entered. Phlox hurried over, and although he reached for a med scanner to be certain, he knew Doctor Weber was dead. He'd seen enough death in his chosen profession that it was a familiar--although always unwelcome--sight.

He assigned Berina to tidy up the surgery area and keep an eye on the Kreetassan patient, then took charge of the body. He didn't know whether the captain would want an autopsy performed, but there was a tremendous amount of work to be done when a crew member died. As long as he was here, he would handle it. It was the least he could do for his old crew, as well as for the man who had taken his place. He wished he'd had a chance to talk to Weber--to find out what he thought of being a doctor on board this particular starship.

Later, for Berina's sake, Phlox tried to be upbeat despite the subdued atmosphere on board. Crew members he recognized seemed happy to see him, but he could tell the death of Doctor Weber had upset them. He understood their ambivalent feelings as being a part of human nature, and he said as much to Berina.

His honored daughter, somewhat subdued herself by the chain of events since their arrival, had still expressed interest in trying all the human foods available that evening in the mess hall. They had wound up piling their plates high with a tasty assortment of morsels, in direct contrast to the plates of the other diners around them. In a whisper, he told Berina grief often affected humans' appetites.

He was helping himself to a buffalo wing from Berina's plate--having explained it came from a species of domestic fowl and not a large American bovine mammal, and which had been named for a city on Earth where it was allegedly first prepared in this manner--when Captain Archer approached their table. He introduced the captain to Berina and then invited him to join them, but Archer declined. Instead, he asked Phlox to come to his private dining room when he was finished with his meal.

After Archer left, Berina commented, "Perhaps he wants to thank you for your services today."

"Um," Phlox said around a mouthful of barbecue. "Or he's going to ask me to stay on, now that _Enterprise_ is in need of a doctor."

"You should!" Berina said without hesitation. "It's what you really want."

"Studying psychology now, are you?" Phlox asked. He eyed her plate. "May I?" he asked, pointing to a piece of fried chicken. When she nodded, he picked it up and said, "This is a chicken leg. It's from the same animal as the buffalo wing, but why it's not called a buffalo leg, I have no idea." He took a bite, chewed with relish, and swallowed. "The captain may not ask me to stay. He may, as you said, just wish to thank me. Besides, I have a practice to start on Denobula."

They finished their meal, sharing tidbits throughout with each other. Phlox had laid aside his napkin, ready to go meet the captain, when Sato and Mayweather stopped at their table. He could see Sato's eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, a sure sign of emotional distress among humans, but she was making a valiant effort to appear cheerful. Mayweather appeared to be providing what humans called moral support to his coworker.

After some strained small talk, Sato said, "Any time you're ready, we can go see your animals."

"We'll have to tell you how Hoshi was conned into moving them to a cargo bay," Mayweather put in. "It was pretty funny. It was all because Doctor Weber..." His voice trailed off awkwardly, and he gave Sato a small apologetic smile.

"I'd like that," Phlox said, "but first I must see the captain. Perhaps you can take Berina and show her, hmmm? I'll catch up with you later."

* * *

Archer pushed aside his plate. He had absolutely no appetite. Looking at his glass of iced tea, he was tempted to switch to something stronger, but there was no one to share a drink with. T'Pol, who was still on the bridge, didn't indulge in strong spirits, and Tucker was in his quarters, sleeping, Archer hoped, after being given a painkiller for his injured shoulder. Drinking alone in his private dining room was not a habit Archer wanted to start.

Deep in his morose thoughts, he almost jumped when the door chime sounded. Phlox came in at Archer's curt "Come." The normally cheerful Denobulan seemed uncharacteristically quiet, but that was understandable, Archer thought. He'd rushed all the way here at a moment's notice, had had a rough experience with docking, and had gone right into what Archer had been told was a difficult surgery. Then Doctor Weber had been killed.

Getting to his feet, Archer said, "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done, Doctor."

"It was my pleasure," Phlox responded. "The Kreetassan should make a full recovery."

Archer definitely didn't mind the goodwill that saving the Kreetassan would engender. He hoped something good would come out of it. Future alliances often began with such a gesture. "I had no doubt," Archer said. "That brings me to something I want to ask you. Would it be possible for you to stay on until we return the Kreetassan to his homeworld? It should only be a matter of a week or so, and afterward we could take you back to Denobula."

"I had intended to offer my services in that regard, yes," Phlox said agreeably, his smile faltering momentarily as he added, "especially since you no longer have a doctor." His smile reappeared and he continued, "After our flight here, I would be willing to do almost anything to avoid returning to Denobula on that shuttle. The pilot is an absolute idiot. It will also give my honored daughter a chance to meet some of my old crewmates. She is eager to learn more about humans."

Archer couldn't help himself. "Must be a family trait," he said, which made Phlox laugh. Just being around Phlox was cheering him up. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Phlox's enthusiasm until after he'd been exposed to Weber's more serious, almost dour, demeanor and deadpan humor for several months.

As long as Phlox seemed to be in a good mood, perhaps he should bring up something else he'd been thinking about while he'd been waiting for him to come to the captain's mess. Although it seemed cold to be considering it with Weber dead only a few hours, _Enterprise_ had to have a doctor, and there was a very good one standing right in front of him--one who already was familiar with a number of the crew and who knew how things worked on a starship.

"The position of chief medical officer is yours, if you want it," he said. "We'd be glad to have you back."

Archer waited as the other man mulled over his request. He didn't know if he'd expected Phlox to leap at the offer or turn him down flat. But the Denobulan's priorities may have changed since he'd served on _Enterprise._ His circumstances definitely had changed--he'd lost a wife and was, for all Archer knew, still in the process of recovering from the trauma of that loss. The longer Archer waited for a response, the more certain he was that the answer would be no.

"Have I shocked you speechless?" Archer asked after a few moments.

"No, no!" Phlox said. "I'm...quite honored, actually. It's tempting, but I need to think about it. I had been planning to start a private practice on Denobula. And I must look after Berina. I promised her mother I would do so."

Archer felt his hopes fall. Phlox wasn't a member of Starfleet, so he couldn't order him to stay on. As it was, they'd been lucky he'd had been able to help them with the Kreetassan. He shouldn't have expected more than that.

* * *

Phlox considered the captain's request as he walked to the cargo bay. He hadn't lied to Archer. Taking up his duties again on _Enterprise_ was a tempting proposition. He'd always found his work on the ship to be both challenging and rewarding, with just the right amount of danger at times to make it exciting.

But he had spent quite a few years away from Denobula--first as a member of the Interspecies Medical Exchange and then on board _Enterprise._ During his recuperation, he had found satisfaction in time spent with his family and friends on his homeworld. Although Berina had been his primary caregiver, that wasn't to say that others hadn't done their part to help him. The large, intertwining Denobulan family structure was ideal for support in times of crisis and grief.

He still felt Alora's absence, of course. Every time he walked into the apartment that he'd once shared with his first wife, he was reminded of what had happened. Still, he was sure he could become accustomed to--and perhaps even learn to appreciate--the sense of privacy and aloneness. Starting a practice on Denobula would have its advantages, too. He'd still be surrounded by family and friends, and he could teach other physicians what he had learned through his work offworld. Perhaps most satisfying would be to help guide Berina in her pursuit of a career in medicine.

He heard Berina's laugh ring through the cargo bay as he entered. Sato and Mayweather were with her, and Phlox guessed that they'd been telling her some amusing anecdote involving his creatures. His creatures, he thought with a pang. He'd totally forgotten about them, but that was understandable, considering the magnitude of his grief. He would have to make sure he thanked Sato for taking care of them. She no doubt would be glad to get rid of them when _Enterprise_ returned him and Berina to Denobula.

As he joined the group around the Pyrithian bat's cage, he heard Mayweather say, "And Hoshi caught the bat in her bare hands after the captain had been trying to catch it for ten minutes!"

Although Berina laughed at the story, Phlox noted that Sato managed only a faint smile. She really was taking Doctor Weber's death hard. He wasn't surprised when Sato excused herself, saying she'd talk with them tomorrow. Mayweather hastily took his leave of them as well and hurried after her.

Noting Berina's curious gaze following the two ensigns, Phlox said, "Human friends often offer each other support in times of grief--sometimes simply by being there."

"As you should, too," Berina said bluntly. "You are their friend."

"Oh, I will," Phlox agreed. "There should be ample opportunity for me to talk with Ensign Sato, and anyone else who feels a need to talk about Doctor Weber's death. We'll be on board for at least another week, what with having to return the Kreetassan to his planet and then going back to Denobula."

"I'm not going back to Denobula," Berina said flatly.

Phlox stared at her in astonishment.

"I've decided to join the Interspecies Medical Exchange," Berina continued confidently before he could think of any suitable response. "When we reach the Kreetassan planet, I will arrange for transport to Earth. Once there, I will apply to the IME. I've checked. I'll have to retake my qualifying exams with a new emphasis, but I can complete my training through the IME. And in the meantime, I can study human culture."

She hadn't once consulted him on this course of action. She must have been thinking about it ever since they'd left Denobula. He finally found his voice, but was unable to keep the hurt out of it. "You seem to have it all planned. Are you sure this is what you want? There isn't another reason?"

Berina hesitated, just for a second. "Like--like what?" she asked, and Phlox had the distinct feeling she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

"Why, like your Unveiling," Phlox said, puzzled at her reaction.

Berina smiled, again her old self. "You've found me out," she said cheerfully. "I really would prefer to go back in a few years. I just want to skip the whole Unveiling. Anyway, I'm only taking your advice. And you should take it, too."

"What advice?"

"Phlox-ix," she said, resorting to his pet name. He knew she did it to get her way. "As often as you've told me to do what I am best suited for and enjoy, you should take your own advice and do the same. I've seen today that you are suited for this life. You are highly skilled, and your talents are valued here. It's obvious you have missed being on this ship with your friends."

"But my plans for a medical practice back home--"

Holding up her hand, she stopped him. "There are other doctors on Denobula. There are none here."

Gazing into her golden eyes, he saw that her conviction was strong and steady. And it was true-- _Enterprise_ did have need of a doctor. Not just any doctor, but him. As if it had been in hiding, the need to be needed rose up in him to override his other wishes. Even the ache of Alora's loss lessened, if only by a bit.

Sighing, not quite willing to give in, he tried one last objection. "What about your mother?"

"You've been gone before. I don't doubt she can manage without you."

"Berina!" he said, but couldn't keep his eyes from sparkling in amusement. "That's not what I meant. What am I to tell her about you? I promised to look out for you."

Berina grasped his hand and squeezed it. "You have, Phlox-ix, you have. And now you, just like my mother, must learn to let go and let me fly. And I promise I will come home to roost. Eventually."

"You heard that, did you?"

"Whenever my mother is involved in a discussion, you can't help but hear it," Berina answered dryly.

Phlox laughed and patted her hand. His honored daughter was full of surprises. That she wanted to fly hadn't surprised him. But she had also offered him sound advice on his decision. Most surprising of all was that she had seen through all the justifications he could make for going back to Denobula, and had presented him with valid reasons why he shouldn't.

"I will tell Captain Archer in the morning that I'm staying," he said. "That way he'll think I thought over his offer before reaching a decision, instead of letting you make it for me."

"Phlox-ix! I did no such thing."

"Of course you didn't," he said.

He led her over to a container of Aldeberan mud leeches. Just because she would be leaving in a few days was no reason to pass up an opportunity to further her education. He indicated the container. "These leeches have a wonderful secretion that works as an artificial sedative. If our Kreetassan patient--who I understand was quite a handful before his surgery--needs sedating, we'll try some of these."

"And if that doesn't work," Berina said, "I saw a bladivin fern among the plants here. The roots make a calming tea when brewed."

"That's correct!" he said. He beamed at her. She would make a wonderful addition to the staff of the IME.

Surrounded by his creatures, happily lecturing Berina, knowing he was staying on _Enterprise_ \--Phlox felt as if he had come home.


End file.
